‘You don’t say! Well, that’s fine. I guess you’re a little wonder,’ Vitelma added archly.
Lord Gavin winced, but he went on in his quiet, musical voice: ‘There is, however, one little favour which we must ask in return for our assistance, and of course you are quite correct in assuming that your word would not be accepted alone.’
Vitelma eyed him narrowly, then she laughed. ‘Say—I thought there was a catch in it somewhere.’
‘There is, and one which concerns you vitally. You are aware, I think, that Nelson Druce has formed an attachment to another woman while he has been in England?’
‘I certainly am. That sly cat of a Bamborough girl has been hitting it up with Nelson. I had a hunch that she was a bit gooey about him back in Hollywood.’
‘Yes. Now I wonder if you are aware how serious this attachment is?’
‘What exactly do you mean?’
‘You know about Nelson Druce’s invention, the “Z” Projector?’
‘Sure. I know about that.’
‘Well—Nelson Druce is so deeply interested in Miss Bamborough that he has made over the whole of the patents for the invention to her absolutely.’
‘Well, now! Can you beat that?’
‘You’re not goin’ to let her get away with that, are you, kid?’ Hinckman put in.
Vitelma’s beautiful face took on an ugly look. ‘I certainly am not,’ she snapped.
‘That’s the stuff,’ Hinckman applauded.
Lord Gavin nodded. ‘To do so would be quite absurd,’ he said mildly. ‘I would suggest therefore that you should see Miss Bamborough and put the position to her. Tell her that you are able and willing to save your fiancé, and that you will do so, but she must make over the rights of the “Z” Projector to you.’
Vitelma looked puzzled. ‘I don’t get that,’ she said, with a shake of her golden head. ‘Avril Bamborough’s gotten this thing off Nelson an’ it’s worth good money, I guess—why would she be fool enough to hand over? Nelson’s my fiancé, not hers.’
‘That is true, but I happen to have had some experience of women of Miss Bamborough’s type, and I have reason to suppose that she is very attached to Nelson Druce. To save him she would be willing to do many things.’
‘I guess you’re all wrong—she’d be an awful mutt if she did.’
‘Possibly,’ Lord Gavin smiled, ‘but I think she will, and I trust you will accept my opinion upon this interesting point in female psychology.’
‘I don’t take much stock in sy-cology,’ Vitelma smiled, ‘but it don’t put me in too good a light. Am I to stand there an’ say—I won’t help Nelson out unless she hands over?’
‘That is the attitude which you must adopt, not a very pleasant one, I fear, but necessary, and if you like I will provide you with a suitable excuse for the position which you are going to take up. Tell her that you are afraid Nelson might throw you over and marry her, since she possesses his invention. You wish to hold it yourself as security for his good faith.’
‘Sure,’ drawled Vitelma, ‘that’s an idea, but just supposing he’s bats about her and throws me down—marries her in any case, projector or no—where do I get off then?’
‘Clever kid,’ Hinckman nodded, ‘but don’t you worry, that’s where I join the party. You just do as we say—land us the “Z” Projector, an’ if Nelson Druce don’t marry yer, I’ll sign you for a first class star contract with Trans-Continental Electric—or the Combine, as I figure it’ll be then.’
Vitelma turned to him quickly. ‘Land you the projector. I guess this is the first we’ve heard of that.’
Lord Gavin smiled at her. ‘I am sure you will realise, Miss Loveday, that we do not ask anything unfair. This is the small favour which I mentioned in the first place. You will sign an undertaking now to turn the “Z” Projector over to us, should it at any time come into you possession.’
‘What for should I do that?’
‘We have to meet our expenses, Miss Loveday. The—er—fellow with whom you danced upon the night of the murder requires a very considerable sum. The hall-porter and the waiters also have to be provided for, you could hardly expect us to meet these obligations out of our own pockets. The “Z” Projector is our price.’ ‘And say I turn you down?’
‘It’s you who’ll be the mutt if you do,’ Hinckman spoke sharply. ‘What sort of life d’you figure to have—Nelson Druce don’t cut no ice as a husband behind the bars—an’ you’re goin’ to let the other girl get away with his invention. You’ll be back in Detroit sweating yer wits how to fix some old man to do the marriage stuff. You can’t do a thing without us, an’ that’s flat. Be sensible an’ do as you’re told. If you do—you’ll get Nelson as a free man an’ I guess he’s got a pretty fat wad somewhere. Or at worst you get a slap-up contract with me.’
‘There’s another little point that we might mention,’ Lord Gavin added. ‘If we assist you in clearing Druce, the police will at once assume that his confession was false and only made with a view to shielding Miss Bamborough. She will be rearrested, and extradition will follow. She will eventually get off, of course, upon the plea of self-defence, but she will first have to face several very unpleasant months in an American prison. May I suggest that you would regard that as a not unsuitable punishment for a woman who has endeavoured to take you fiance from you?’
‘That goes with me,’ said Vitelma slowly. ‘I guess I’ll do it—but won’t she see that part about being rearrested herself? She’d be stark crazy to agree.’
‘Sometimes,’ Lord Gavin murmured, ‘people do become crazy, and I am rather banking on the belief that Miss Bamborough is suffering from this type of madness now. I think you will find that she will agree.’
‘An’ I get Nelson as a free man, or the contract’ Vitelma stood up. ‘Well, that’s O.K. by me.’
‘I am glad that you are so sensible, Miss Loveday.’ Lord Gavin made a little bow as he rose from his chair. ‘This is the agreement regarding the projector, and this—a document embodying our promise to you about your contract in the event of Nelson Druce refusing to keep his word with you. It becomes operative only when the patents are handed over to us, of course. If you will sign the first, Hinckman will sign the second.’ He handed her a pen.
Vitelma scrawled her name in large round letters, placed the other paper which Hinckman had given to her in her bag, and turned to Lord Gavin. ‘When’ll I have my little talk with Avril Bamborough?’
‘As soon as it can be arranged. Mr. Hinckman proposes to lend you his cottage down in Surrey for the interview. You will not, of course, mention to her that we are in any way interested.’
‘For why?’ asked Vitelma suspiciously.
‘I don’t think we need to go into that. It is to your interest in every way to bring this business to a satisfactory conclusion. If you were to mention Mr. Hinckman’s name you might prejudice your chances very seriously; please accept my assurance of that. You may be certain that Miss Bamborough will prove quite willing to enter into arrangements with Nelson Druces’s fiancée that she would not agree to with anybody else. You have the right to make proposals to her which she would not listen to from any other source—therefore it is important that she should believe you to speak for yourself alone.’
‘Yes, I suppose that’s so, but why can’t we meet in Town?’
‘This is an important interview, Miss Loveday. It would be best if you met in some place where there is no possibility of your being disturbed. You can say that you have taken this cottage for your stay in England in order to avoid the Press.’
‘O.K. When’s it to be?’
‘That we are about to arrange.’ Lord Gavin picked up the telephone. He asked for Ronnie’s room, and spoke to his aidede-camp. A moment or two later Ronnie joined them.
‘Hello, chaps.’ He looked round. ‘Hullo, Miss Loveday. I see from the papers you’re going to get poor old Nelson off.’
She smiled. ‘I certainly hope so, Mr. Sheringham.’
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‘Listen,’ said Lord Gavin. ‘I wish you to telephone to Avril Bamborough, she is certain to be at Hatfield. You will say that Miss Loveday arrived in England last night, that you have seen her today, and that she is very anxious to meet Miss Bamborough to discuss methods of procuring Nelson Druce’s release. You will add that Miss Loveday has taken a quiet cottage down in Surrey—in order to avoid as far as possible the attentions of the Press. Ask if Miss Bamborough could see Miss Loveday at her cottage this evening and offer to run her over yourself in your car. Impress upon her that the matter is urgent and on no account mention that Miss Loveday is here with Hinckman and myself.’
Ronnie obediently put through a call to Hatfield, and a few moments later he was speaking to Avril. In his cheerful, airy-way he said or implied all that Lord Gavin had told him to say. He listened for a moment in silence, evidently Avril was making up her mind at the other end of the line, then he quickly clapped his hand over the transmitter.
‘She’s scared,’ he said. ‘There won’t be any funny business, will there—this is a fair deal, eh?’
Lord Gavin nodded quickly.
Ronnie nodded, too, and laughed into the transmitter. ‘What nonsense—of course not. I’ll take you there and bring you back myself…. Rather! I shall be there all the time…. No, I don’t know what her scheme is but she wants your help…. Splendid. I’ll come for you then at about six o’clock.’
He put down the telephone. ‘Well, that’s fixed up.’
‘Thank you, my dear boy. Now I want one word with Hinckman on another matter, so perhaps you would take Miss Loveday down to the lounge for a cocktail.’ Lord Gavin turned to Vitelma. ‘You will excuse me, I hope, not offering you something here. I shall not detain Mr. Hinckman for more than a few moments and then he will take you down to Cutmill in his car. May I wish you the best of good fortune in your interview?’
‘That’s real kind of you, Lord Fortescue.’ Vitelma extended her slim hand once more. She smiled at Hinckman. ‘See-yer-later, big boy,’ then she left the room with Ronnie.
Hinckman lit a fresh cigar. ‘You certainly got her set the way you wanted.’
‘Yes.’ Lord Gavin nodded his massive head. ‘It now remains with you. Keep the Loveday woman up to it on your way down, and impress upon her how necessary it is for her to appear to be acting entirely on her own. The Bamborough girl would never give up that patent if she had any idea that it was coming to us.’
‘Sure. I’ll see to that, and tonight’s the night all right; once we get that projector—I guess we’re through.’
‘Yes.’ Lord Gavin’s pale eyes glittered. ‘We shall have achieved the greatest victory that modern commerce has ever known.’
‘There’s only one snag…. Just supposin’ the Bamborough kid does refuse to play?’
Lord Gavin’s pale eyes held Hinckman’s with a firm glance. He tapped the table for a moment with his small pudgy fingers and the sinister note crept into his soft voice as he replied: ‘This is your opportunity—if she refuses you must see that she never returns from the cottage at Cutmill.’
21
The Cottage on the Common
At a little after eight o’clock that evening Ronnie was driving Avril through the by-roads that lie between Guildford and Cut-mill. The car was one which he had purchased recently from a friend of his who was a dealer. Ronnie, in funds, or in prospect of funds, was never without a car. He drove with apparent recklessness, but actually he had an extraordinarily sure control of his wheel. He loved speed in any form and his nerve was quite perfect.
They had had sandwiches and sherry in Guildford, since it was impossible to say how long the meeting would last; Avril hoped that it might be brief. She rated herself for a fool, but nevertheless she could not throw off a miserable and unjustified feeling of guilt at the prospect of meeting Nelson’s fiancée. She wondered if Vitelma had ever received Nelson’s letter asking for his freedom. It might be cowardly, but she could not help hoping that Vitelma had not, perhaps it was still somewhere out upon the Atlantic chasing her back to England. It would be hateful and so incredibly degrading if the beautiful blonde accused her of alienating Nelson’s affections. She was determined to leave again at once if any signs of a squabble on those lines arose. In fact, she would never have agreed to meet Vitelma had it not been for that bold announcement in the papers a fortnight before, when it was stated that the film star was definitely coming to England to get her fiancée off.
Avril had puzzled again and again as to how Vitelma proposed to set about it. She herself knew that Nelson had shot Angelo Donelli, beyond a shadow of doubt. How, then, could the other girl prove his innocence? And now tonight, she was wondering what possible part she was to be asked to play—the question proved beyond her, but directly Ronnie had spoken to her on the telephome she had decided that it was up to her to meet Vitelma and hear what she had to say. No possible chance must be neglected that might lead to Nelson’s release.
Avril had taken off her hat and let the cool breeze blow through her hair. Her cheeks were pale and there were dark lines under her eyes from sleeplessness, and overwork. The film was done at last, thank goodness, and she had no doubt whatever of its ultimate success.
Titchcock had thrown himself into the thing with even more than his accustomed vigour, and the cast had supported her nobly. Again and again she had had shots repeated when they were nearly good enough, but not quite perfect. It was by far the best work that she had ever done, despite the fact that she had worked at fever-pitch and under a frightful nervous strain during its making. It was now in the hands of the continuity men and finishers. Arrangements had been made for the Premiere to take place at the Rivoli three nights hence. That would be on the very night before Vandelstein’s money became due. The margin of time would be terribly narrow, but it had been utterly impossible to get the film finished under the fortnight, and once the public had seen the projector at work, it was hoped that they might be able to raise a loan upon it in the City on the morning after the Premiere. Invitations were to be issued to the most distinguished people in London society, and it was believed that Royalty would be present. The first announcement of this great new triumph in the film world was appearing in the papers that night.
The small car hurtled round corners, and up and down the little slopes in the narrow, winding lanes. It was not the same road that Avril and Nelson had taken on the night of the fire, but so near it that had Avril known the same clumps of pines upon the little moorland knolls could be seen from both.
They ran swiftly down a short hill, across a dip where in the day-time there was visible on each side a little stream curving and eddying between the willows, veered to the right and up the opposite slope, where the headlights flashed for a moment upon a red post-box nailed to a telegraph pole, then on the top of the rise Ronnie brought the car to a halt.
‘Is that it?’ Avril looked doubtfully at a labourer’s cottage, abutting on the road to her right.
Ronnie laughed as he backed the car. ‘Lord, no! It’s a bit bigger than that, and about three hundred yards down the track.’ He drove the car onto the grass as he spoke. Open common lay upon the left, and after they had passed the garden of the cottage near the road, to the right as well. Avril could see the heath on either side, with the fronds of the high bracken glowing in the headlights, and dark patches of gorse here and there. Wheelmarks on the grassy track showed plainly that other cars had passed that way.
‘This can’t be much fun in winter,’ Avril remarked, as they bumped along.
‘No, a car would soon get stuck—but it’s a summer place, that’s all; very quiet and peaceful, isn’t it?’ The car came to a jerky halt.
Avril could see the cottage now, it lay upon their right, low and dark, with lights only in the room at the far end. The garden sloped towards the alder woods, through which must run the stream that they had passed upon the road, to the left the open moorland continued and beyond the cottage the tree-trunks of a silver
birch wood were visible in the summer twilight.
Ronnie sounded his horn twice, and then got out. ‘I’d better go first,’ he said, ‘I know the way.’
He unlatched the wicket gate and led her down a tiled path that ran along the side of the building. It was then that Avril saw it to be three cottages knocked into one. At the corner he turned and entered a small loggia. It looked towards the sloping garden, there were two terraces and a little lawn, white steps gleamed in the light from the window, leading down to the brook. In the still evening air the gurgling of the waters came plainly to the ear.
Ronnie pushed the house-door that led into the sheltered loggia. ‘Anybody at home?’ he called.
‘Come right in.’ It was Vitelma’s voice. Avril unconsciously squared her shoulders as she followed Ronnie into the narrow hall and down a short passage to the right.
They entered a pleasant lofty room, with wide windows looking out onto the woods. There was a large open fire-place on the left of the door, and the old beams above it had been allowed to remain. They supported the upper rooms which jutted out over the fire-place, having something of the effect of an enclosed minstrels’ gallery—but Avril was not looking at the room, she was studying Vitelma.
The fair girl stood up. ‘It’s nice of you to come, Miss Bamborough. Come right in and sit down.’ She showed no animosity.
‘Thank you,’ Avril smiled. ‘Your message came as a surprise, but I shall be only too pleased to help you in any way I can about Nelson.’ Mentally, she gave a little sigh of relief, his name had been mentioned, at least that fence was over.
‘That’s nice of you, I felt sure I could count of your assistance. Seen much of Nelson lately?’
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